I stretched my neck, shut out my thoughts of war, and tried to curb my growing irritation at the lesser vampire who droned on about the boundaries of his human blood distribution network and how his rivals were encroaching. It didn’t work. Instead, I just fantasised about ripping his throat out. I broke my preternatural stillness, my voice like the crack of a gun, making the vampire stumble backwards a few steps.
“Enough! My second will send men to mediate the distribution boundaries with you and your rival.”
The lesser gulped loudly, then stupidly opened his mouth to argue.
“Leave. Now.” My stonily delivered words were enough to send him scurrying away. I glanced at Dav, who nodded. He’d sort it out.
The snivelling pissant disappeared through the door of the club, and I let my shoulders fall, releasing a breath as relative silence fell. My guards knew better than to speak. Yet my moment of tranquility was interrupted before it had truly begun. The doors squeaked as they were thrown open and banged noisily against the wall. My posture remained relaxed, but my gaze tracked the newcomer’s progress. I inhaled. This visitor was already giving off a scent of fear. He should be scared; he’d walked, without invitation, into my territory. I’d deal with the guards who’d allowed this later, though perhaps that would be unnecessary. The sounds of death reached me from beyond the doors. They had killed this vampire’s entourage already, and were leaving this one for me. As it should be.
Keeping my baser side in check, I tracked the intruder’s progress. His designer shoes clicked on the floor, the sound somehow ominous in the silence of the club. His dark, impeccable suit seemed to blend with the shadows that followed him as he approached me. He used a walking cane that was clearly not necessary, but, as he stopped and moved it in his grip, it did the job he wanted. Stefan’s unique family crest gleamed back at me, its message understood. This was a messenger of the crown, and such things were never to be taken lightly. I huffed a silent breath. Perhaps I would forgive Stefan his trespass against my lands—perhaps not.
Dav straightened from his relaxed posture against the wall. His eyes were narrowed, alight with interest and no small amount of suspicion, as the vampire continued towards me. The man’s hair was dark and neat, his obsidian eyes gleaming with red as only an Original’s did in this low light. But it wasn’t the messenger himself who held my attention; it was the shadows at his back.
I remained silent and watchful as the aristocratic prick stopped in front of my throne, Elliot blocking his tall and elegantform from climbing onto the dais. He looked up, managing to appear supercilious even as my gaze speared him from above.
“Good afternoon, Count Rossi.”
I didn’t deign to answer. He was a stranger to me, which told me all I needed to know about Stefan’s message, that he was angry I’d ignored his summons to bring Shane to his court, and that I wasn’t worthy of one of his senior court members. It was interesting indeed that Stefan’s mind was in such a place that he thought he could threaten me into any kind of action.
The man’s lips tilted marginally to the side. The mockery of a smile belied the tension around his eyes, as did the flick of his thumb over the silver skull and double heart crest on the cane. That old symbol always gave me pause. It was a reminder of the past, of the most powerful family of Originals that had ever ruled. One that I had vowed to protect—always—except when they disrespected me.
I stared coldly at my visitor. Silence settled around the room like a heavy, suffocating blanket. None of my men reacted. I certainly didn’t. I was playing with my food. The scent of fear became cloying. Almost as if it wasn’t coming just from him.
Interesting.
Outwardly arrogant, this messenger was inwardly a scared little mouse. And I was the cat. If I’d had any kind of heart left, I would feel sorry for him. This task was a death sentence, and it seemed he knew it.
“I come as an envoy to the king. He commands you…”
Before he could start his next word, I was before him, my fingers curled tightly around his neck, my nails piercing his skin. He dropped the cane and reached for my hand, but it was to no avail. Without another thought, I separated his head from his shoulders and threw the body sideways.
So much for playing with my prey. Perhaps I was wound a little more tightly than I thought. Blood dripped from my hand,and I stepped away to avoid the mess running towards my shoes. I could make myself spotless with the magic I commanded, but for once, it felt good to have blood bathe my skin.
Dav sauntered forward. “Here.” He passed me a damp, black hand towel. “The others that were with them are also dead.”
I nodded my thanks. “Good.” I continued to clean the blood from my hands. “You can show yourself now.”
A breath passed before a boy with hair almost as dark as mine stepped closer. His chin lifted, defiant in the face of his fear. His lips trembled, if only slightly, and his hands gripped the bottom of his suit jacket so hard his fingers were almost white. Yet his spine was straight, and his shoulders were back. Just like he’d been drilled to do. Vampire children were rare, and our long lives often made it difficult to remember childhood, but that didn’t mean they shouldn’t have one. And this child hadn’t. His father had made sure of that.
The shadows that he had hidden amongst had ended with the boy’s escort, as I suspected they would. Such manipulation of the darkness wasn't something Stefan could control. So he coerced those from ancient bloodlines who could do such things to serve him. It was a deliberate move to send such a shadow manipulator into my territory without forewarning. His death was on Stefan, not me.
“Andras. Did your father not teach you that it is disrespectful, not to mention dangerous, to enter my territory without permission, and definitely in such a deceitful manner?”
“My father does not teach me. As king, he is beyond such things.”
I cocked my head. Even so young, Andras had learnt to be evasive. I understood. It was a matter of survival. His father was unpredictable, to say the least. Stefan always had been, and as often happened to those in power, it made his attitude towards others, not to mention his belief in his own self-importance,that much worse. Perhaps I should take some of the blame for Stefan’s personality. In my defense, I’d done what I could while he was young, but for those with weak minds, power often corrupted. Look at Victor and even Nicolai. They were prime examples of weak and selfish minds. It worried me that Stefan’s mind, not just his body, was being affected by his ailment.
I waited patiently for the vampire prince to continue. Andras was giving himself time to judge his interrogator’s mood and how much truth was wise. The boy looked me directly in the eye. His bravery was admirable, if not verging on stupid. Did he honestly believe himself untouchable?
His chin lifted a little more, and though he tried to remain haughty, his lip trembled. “Your king is tired of you evading his commands.”
My eyebrows twitched up, but I remained silent. He’d clearly been sent with, or as, a message from his father, and even beneath his feigned arrogance, there was a sour scent of fear. The poor child had been sent to do a job that even the most ancient Originals would not relish; to issue me a veiled threat and force me into action.
“And what is that command, Prince Andras?” I kept my voice light and non-threatening. Beneath his brave act, he was still just a frightened child.
His eyes flicked to where his escort's head rested before settling back on me. A slight sheen of sweat covered his upper lip.
“He knows the hybrid survived. You are to deliver it to him in person. He wishes to understand its potential and where it could be used in the war. He will not tolerate any further delays from you.”
